


Every Storm Settles

by dentigerous



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2018 [2]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 13:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dentigerous/pseuds/dentigerous
Summary: Furiosa has overtaken the Immortan's armada, and she must divide the remaining fleet.





	Every Storm Settles

Furiosa stood on the deck of the overtaken war rig, breathing hard, bloody, and victorious. All around her fires were being put out as the War Boys put down their flintlock pistols and rusty swords. They weren’t well armed, and at least on deck the Mothers were not outgunned.

The _Gigahorse_ had been taken _._ It was an extremely large frigate, with far more cannons along her hull than the _Vuvalini_ , but the women’s ship was faster and light, and her captain clever. They had picked off the ten-ship fleet throughout the night, approaching the boats and destroying them one by one. By the time the sun rose, the _Vuvalini_ had wound through the armada of boats manned by the war boys and attacked the lead ship.

And now it was hers.

With it, she became the leader of the War Boys, the heir apparent to the Oasis, and the Eden that was promised. Was this not worth celebrating?

Instead she rested on the rails of the forecastle, watching the Mothers and Boys and even the Brides working on the ship. They were clearing off the bodies, calling to the other ships, and repairing the sails as they limped away from the destruction of the Immortan’s armada. She was the captain now. The Admiral. There were three other ships that had been conquered, that might have been enough to make her a pirate Admiral.

Furiosa slowly rubbed her shoulder, her prosthesis having been torn off and lost in the fighting. She watched the waves and then turned to watch the hulls of the whole ships. The _Vuvalini_ sailed nearby, as did the _Valiant_ and the _Ploughshare_. She watched the iron-bow of the _Ploughshare_ with distaste, considering abandoning it where it was, the blood of her sisters still staining the prow.

It would make it easier to get the rest of her mothers and survivors to the oasis. She couldn’t sail the _Gigahorse_ on a skeleton crew, and the fewer ships docked at the Oasis the less likely an insurrection would rise.

“Valkyrie! Get the small boats to the _Ploughshare_ , we will abandon the brigantine.”

As the mother nodded, rounding up a few other women and war boys to the effort, Furiosa heard a noise of dissent from the port stair. She glanced over, and saw Max walking slowly up the forecastle.

“You ain’t going to bring that ship along?”

Furiosa regarded the man carefully, looking over his own hurts and pains. He was cut above his eyes, and his limp was even more pronounced after the fighting, since his brace had been broken and thrown away at some point. He was still bright-eyed, sharp and aware, and Furiosa knew that he hadn’t been too addled by the fatigue of the battle.

“One too many barks. I don’t need to bring the Oasis more guns.”

“Aye.” Max turned to look at the _Ploughshare_ , and Furiosa didn’t miss the look of disgust that flitted across his face. “I’ll take it off your hands.”

Furiosa frowned, shaking her head. “You can’t sail a brigantine on your own.”

“I don’t plan to keep it long. There’s a port--” he pointed north east, across a very far and salty sea, “there. I’ll trade it for a clipper. Get a crew.”

“You think you can convince that boat to limp so far,” Furiosa asked, frowning.

“Ain’t hurt,” Max said, turning towards the ship. “I’ll set the sails, wait it out.”

She snorted, crossing her arm over her chest. “And if there’s weather?”

“There ain’t been a storm yet that hasn’t settled.”

Furiosa snorted and gestured towards one of the shortboats lying against the hull of the _Gigahorse_. “Take it then. Tell Valkyrie your plan; she’ll call you mad.”

“Who among us ain’t touched?”

Furiosa shook her head, turning away. If Max wanted to die on the open ocean, with neither land to rest on nor light to see by, so be it. She wouldn’t tell the man what to do. He had proven himself a worthy friend, a staunch ally, and a brave man. The least she could do was believe in him.

“Take it,” Furiosa said again, gesturing. “Godspeed.”

Max smiled, just a little. He inclined his head and turned to leave, but Furiosa reached out and grasped his elbow.

“You fought hard for us. For our freedom.”

“Nobody deserves a hurt like a chain.” Max mumbled, not looking at Furiosa, his eyes trained down.

“Thank you.”

Max grunted, and Furiosa dropped her hand, sad, but not hurt. She took a step back and Max nodded once, glanced up at her, and then stepped carefully down the stairs, taking a longboat. She kept an eye on him as he rowed to the deadly _Ploughshare_ , and boarded the ship. It appeared that Valkyrie and a few of the Mothers had taken pity on the madman, and helped him lash the sails in position.

Furiosa didn’t let herself indulge in fantasy, not while there was blood still wet on the deck of the _Gigahorse_ , and the _Vuvalini_ was missing half her crew. Most of the Wives had survived, at least, and they were drawing the War Boys to them like so many lost children. They were still kind, and it was enough to convince Furiosa to look back, watching the _Ploughshare_ as it turned east, a lone man standing on its deck.


End file.
